ears perk at condemning tone toward self — not a twitch to expression, perfectly impassive. yet gaze simmers with distaste for unpleasant incident. “hard enough to bruise?” — implicating potential intervention. hound’s at ready.

why the strong language first thing in the morning then?

palm on spine’s curve, gaze lingering on where it’s most tender. did he knock himself into something?

woke up on the wrong side of bed?

so we just ... don’t mention it ever?

sweetest boy i know. (mouth curving against skin below collarbone. pressing love’s back against wall for support / glittered dermis kissed, ere enamel announces its presence with a graze then nip.)

why shouldn’t i be?

thank you, ken. (kiss, kiss to cheek, then doll picked up with ease; thighs clamping flank with hands on glutes.)

don’t be too harsh on yourself. you deserve a lot of things.

hm?

always do, when you’re this sweet.

you spoil me so. think i should reward you for that.

mhm. it’ll be my most prized collection.

(brow arching.) i’d love to. you gonna put on a show for me?

it’d be a good look, no? might get you to laugh a little, which is one of my favourite sounds.

you’re not wrong. thank you, baby.

they’re all my favourites.